


I Swear that I'll Be Around for You

by Sohotthateveryonedied



Series: Whumptober 2020 [25]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Family Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Illnesses, Prompt: "Disorientation", Sick Character, Sickfic, Whumptober 2020, bruce still comforts dick when he's sick even though their relationship is rocky atm, but look i'm sleepy okay so hopefully i edit this in the morning, god he's such a good dad, gosh i can't believe i'm using that tag, i always hate people who don't edit their stuff, no editing we die like robins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:07:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27203596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sohotthateveryonedied/pseuds/Sohotthateveryonedied
Summary: “Alfred said you’re sick.”Dick chuckles, then coughs. “World’s greatest detective.”Bruce doesn’t exactly know what to say now. His hands hover, unsure. God, this was so much easier when Dick was younger. Every time he had so much as a case of the sniffles he would snuggle into Bruce’s side, let himself be cared for as if he were on his deathbed. Things are so different now.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne
Series: Whumptober 2020 [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948297
Comments: 14
Kudos: 331





	I Swear that I'll Be Around for You

**Author's Note:**

> Whump Day 25: "Disorientation"
> 
> Title is from "Dear Theodosia" again lmao. Also yes I know these fics keep coming late but today my sister brought her new boyfriend over and then I had a science project to do and it was just a busy day okay.

It’s a late night. Then again, when _isn’t_ it a late night? Bruce will forever hold on to his steadfast belief that anyone who maintains a normal sleeping schedule is weak and should be fed to wolves for their audacity.   
  
Bruce pokes his head into the kitchen where Alfred is wiping down the already spotless counters. “I’m heading up to bed now, Alfred, so feel free to do the same. Maybe try to be rebellious and sleep in for once.” Not that the old man will heed his advice.   
  
“Goodnight, Master Bruce. Oh, and do be quiet as you go upstairs? Master Dick has the flu and needs as much rest as he can get.”   
  
Bruce blinks. If he didn’t know any better, he’d be sure that his brain just got smooshed in a toddler’s fist with how long he stands there, vacantly staring at Alfred as his words sink in. “Dick is _here?_ Since when?”   
  
Dick and Bruce haven’t said a word to each other for weeks now, possibly the longest they’ve ever gone without at least _some_ sort of contact with each other. Their last argument was a bad one. Things were said, things they both regret. Bruce doesn’t blame his ward for spending all of his time with the Titans, moving on to forge his own path in a new life.   
  
“Since you left for patrol this evening,” Alfred says casually. “I’m certain I told you about it.”   
  
“I’m certain you didn’t.”   
  
Alfred shrugs. “Well, he’s here. Poor lad is sick as a dog, another tragic casualty of flu season.”   
  
“Hm. I’ll...be sure to check on him.”   
  
Alfred doesn’t turn around, but Bruce can feel his judgement with every pass of the sponge across gleaming marble. “What a marvelous idea, Master Bruce.”   
  
Translation? _I hope the fuck you do, foolish bastard._   
  
Alfred truly has a way with words.   
  
Bruce goes upstairs, invisible anchors tied to his ankles and dragging him down the whole way. He and Dick have been on rocky terrain for so long that he finds himself unsure of what to say to the boy. Man, now. Dick has grown so much over the years, become a person all his own, and Bruce finds himself at a loss when it comes to finding common ground with him. Maybe that’s how it always goes with fathers and sons; with time comes distance, and with distance comes respect. In all honesty, Bruce would gladly lose the distance _and_ the time. He’d keep Dick as the smiling eight-year-old he grew to love all those years ago.   
  
Bruce stops in front of Dick’s old bedroom and finds the door already cracked halfway open. He peers in and finds a lump under the covers on the bed, shivering even as his chest rises and falls in steady rhythm.   
  
Bruce creeps in soundlessly. Dick’s face peeks out from the mound of blankets, his complexion pallid and covered in a sheen of perspiration. His cheeks are flushed with fever even as he shivers in his sleep. Bruce can’t help himself from pulling the blankets up higher, tucking them around Dick’s shoulders.   
  
Bruce’s breath catches as blue eyes crack open, blinking a few times before blearily settling on Bruce. “Hey,” Dick croaks, not two decibels above a whisper.   
  
“Alfred said you’re sick.”   
  
Dick chuckles, then coughs. “World’s greatest detective.”   
  
Bruce doesn’t exactly know what to say now. His hands hover, unsure. God, this was so much easier when Dick was younger. Every time he had so much as a case of the sniffles he would snuggle into Bruce’s side, let himself be cared for as if he were on his deathbed. Things are so different now.   
  
Luckily, the exertion of talking alone seems to have been the limit for Dick, because his eyes close once again as he drifts back to sleep. Definitely sick, then. If he were any healthier, this would have ended in an argument or one of them storming from the room. Maybe Bruce should carry on with the latter, leave this one up to Alfred. After all, Dick is an adult now. He doesn’t need Bruce caring for him anymore. He doesn’t need Bruce, period.   
  
But Bruce watches Dick turn fitfully under the covers, his mouth twisted in a grimace as the illness ravages his body, and he knows he can’t stay away.   
  
  


* * *

  
  
Dick wakes up smothered by warmth, and he can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not. It seeps into him from all angles, a cocoon of heat that’s as comforting as it is sweltering. He’s a marshmallow browning over a candle, soft and squishy and _warm._   
  
Dick has no clue where he is or what woke him up, and right now he doesn’t care. Maybe he’s in a fireplace. Is that possible? Can someone live in a fireplace without dying? Kori probably could. He should ask her if she’s ever visited a fireplace planet. Dick considers just going back to sleep to think on it more some other time, when something cool touches his forehead and his eyes open in shock.   
  
It’s dark, wherever he is. Dark and warm and comfortable, but that _thing_ touching him? That just won’t do. Dick bats it away and makes contact with a wrist. Someone chuckles. “Just checking your temperature.” Dick knows that voice, he’s sure he does, but his mind is a swirling vortex of semi-coherent thoughts that are too jumbled to sort through right now. He’ll do it later.   
  
“How are you feeling, chum?” that same voice rumbles gently. How something can rumble gently, Dick isn’t sure, nor does he have the mental capacity to sort through it at the moment. The voice’s words are warped, too warbly to understand. Dick grumbles something nonsensical and pulls the thick blanket tighter around himself. Wherever he is, it’s too warm to leave.   
  
The surface beneath him is cushy but solid in the best way. Maybe he really has been turned into a marshmallow. Or maybe his bed is a marshmallow. Maybe the world is made of marshmallows and every minute of his life was just a dream before he wakes up back in Marshmallow Land. Would he mind that?   
  
Something pokes between his lips and slips under his tongue. Dick is too tired to fight it. After an amount of time he doesn’t think he’s all there for, there’s a beep and someone pulls the thing away. That same someone hums. “You still have a fever.”   
  
Then why does it feel like he’s freezing to death under all the warmth he’s swaddled in?   
  
“Are you thirsty?” Excellent question. What does being thirsty mean again? Dick manages an affirming grumble. Then something new prods at his mouth. Dick drinks the water, the liquid heavenly on his sore throat. His mouth is dry, almost sticky with the sensation, and the water is a relief he didn’t know he needed.   
  
Slowly, painstakingly, Dick opens his eyes and strains to take in the darkness around him.   
  
Black blankets. White pillows. Something soft and blue—a sweater? Dick’s eyes climb higher and find a face, and that’s when it clicks. He’s been sleeping with his head on Bruce’s chest, in Bruce’s bed. Huh. Dick is pretty sure he should be mortified right now, but all he has room for in his fever-compromised brain is how incredibly comfortable he is.   
  
Bruce says something.   
  
“Hm?”   
  
“I asked if you were cold.”   
  
Dick shakes his head, gripping Bruce’s sweater tighter in his fingers. “‘m fine.”   
  
Bruce makes another humming noise and picks up a novel from the nightstand, flipping to the page he left off at. His fingers card through Dick’s hair, soothing enough that it nearly puts him back to sleep. How long has he been here, sitting up with Dick while he battles the flu? Did Dick come to Bruce’s room on instinct, or did Bruce carry him here? If the former, why hasn’t Bruce kicked him out yet?   
  
The old days were a simpler time, back when Dick’s instinct every time he got sick or had a nightmare was to take up residence in Bruce’s bed, seeing as it was the biggest _and_ the cushiest one in the house. Dick would climb in and snuggle against Bruce, hogging the covers all night, but Bruce never once complained.   
  
And now, fifteen years later, it looks like nothing has changed.   
  
“You’re good at this,” Dick says.   
  
“At what?”   
  
“Takin’ care of me. Being a dad. You’re good at it.”   
  
The hand in his hair stills. “I try to be.”   
  
Dick closes his eyes, soaking in the warmth, the steady tempo of Bruce’s breaths. “‘s why I came. I knew you’d be here, no matter what.” 

**Author's Note:**

> [Feel free to mosey on down to my Tumblr!](http://sohotthateveryonedied.tumblr.com/)


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